Day Two

Today I again find myself plagued by some mild gastrointestinal distress. Normally that would not be oh-so-blog worthy but I fear that the distress may be effecting my brain because for absolutely no apparent reason several things made me laugh uproariously this morning on my drive into work that were anything but funny. To wit:

• I was driving behind a man in a Toyota Corolla. A slow driving man. As we seemed to decrease speed even more I said, out loud, "We seemed to have hit a snag in the 'Go Plan' Mr. Corolla." At which point I started giggling and the laughing and then teared up and had to find a tissue. Now "We seemed to have hit a snag in the 'Go Plan'" is not funny. Dorky? Absolutely. Saying out loud to your self in the car? Even dorkier. But not so funny. Nonetheless, even thinking the words "Go Plan" still make me giggle. Go Plan. Heh.
• Part of the reason I was worried about Mr. Corolla's failure to adhere to the Go Plan was because I was hungry. And so, after passing Mr. Corolla, my mind wandered to food. And to lunch and the dinner and then somehow I started thinking about the food at my wedding. We had a small reception at Morton's, a friggen steakhouse, where for some unknown reason, I decided to order salmon. Of the twenty-eight people that were there, one person ordered salmon, me. What the fuck? I am a huge meat loving, steak craving, carnivore, why for the love of all that is beef, did I order salmon? It was at this point that the giggles started. Heh, I ordered salmon from Morton's, at my own wedding reception, hehe. I am a dork. Then the laughing started. Salmon, whaaahaaaa, salmon. Then the tears came and I had to find another tissue because my first "Go Plan" tissue hadn't held up.
• So I regained my composure, but was still thinking about dinner, and Morton's, and thought, "Yummmm, Morton's. I want to go to Morton's and not get salmon. Hmmm. If only I had money. Maybe we won the Powerball last night. You know what. If we won the Powerball and Boo didn't tell me," and this is where I started speaking out loud to myself (again), "I am going to be so pissed. Can you imagine? I'm coming to work, feeling like ass, or a pending ass explosion, and yet I am a gazillionaire but because Boo forgot to tell me I have to go to work. Hell no! That is fucked. He better have told me if we won. I wanted to sleep in. Dick." And then I started to giggle and laugh at myself, because hello, if we won, I am sure he would have told me, oh, like seconds after he found out so I was basically getting annoyed at something that DID NOT HAPPEN.
• I again regained my composure and am still thinking about Boo, who may or may not be a dick if we did in fact win the Powerball and he forgot to tell me, and I remember him waking up, stretching, pointing to the ceiling, and in his best disco voice singing, "It's raining men!" And then I start to laugh and require yet another tissue.

So you see, I believe I may be suffering from delirium. Or maybe I am just plain "touched." Because none of these things are amusing and no way explain why I went through three tissues to mop of my tears of laughter. Tissues which, by the way, left little clumpy bits on my waterproof mascara coated eye lashes that in my (delusional) mind looked kind of like snow flakes and sent me into another fit of giggles.